The Voice of God
By
P.J. Lawton
God was talking to him. It had to be God; only God would have such a warm comforting tone. Only God’s voice could be so rich, so melodious. Yes, it was God all right; it had to be. The first voice though, that wasn’t God. It was too cold, mechanical and emotionless. No, that hadn’t been God.
He had been hearing the voices for almost two days now ever since he had awakened. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t even know who he was. All he knew was that he was injured very seriously. When he had awakened he had found him self half inside a smashed up machine out in the middle of some very inhospitable wilderness. He realized that he should know what this was all about but, hey, he just couldn’t remember.
He had awakened to the first voice, the cold voice. He didn’t really understand all of it, just bits and pieces.
. . . ARGO-1 this is control, do you read. . . ARGO-1 we are barely reading your signs. . .ARGO-1 if you read turn on your transponder. . . ARGO-1 this is control, do you read. .
After awhile the voice stopped talking. He wasn’t sure how long, must have been hours later when God started talking to him. He had managed somehow to pull his torn battered body out of the machine. The super heated ground on which he was sitting almost brought a memory forward, but no it slipped away. He almost didn’t hear God’s voice at first. When he did he realized it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It was like magical floating music on the air.
. . .ARGO-1 this is Matrix Mission Control. . . AGRO-1 we can barely read your signal please turn on you transponder
. . ARGO-1 I know from your vitals that you’re badly injured but don’t give up, we are going to help you. . . ARGO-1 we are moving out of range, hang in there my friend, I’ll contact you in six hours, this is Mission Control, Out. . .
That was the first time he had heard from God. God was calling for someone or something called ARGO-1. I suppose that could be me, he thought. He hadn’t understood much of it but he did know that the voice would talk to him again in six hours. He moved to the little shade offered by the broken machine and settled in for his wait. God was going to help him; the amazing voice had said so.
A muffled sound inside his head brought him around.
. . .ARGO-1 this is Matrix Mission Control, do you read. . . Look my friend we are going to help you but you have to help us. . . AGRO-1, if you can hear me push the red button on your wrist gauntlet. . .
He looked down at his wrist and found a wide metal gauntlet containing several buttons and switches. God had said the red one right? Barely able to move he slipped his hand over and pushed the button and said “Okay God, now what?”
. . . that’s great ARGO-1. It appears that you com link is not functioning but now I know that you can hear me. . . now listen up, here’s what I want you to do. . .
Several more times he attempted to answer God but it appeared that God couldn’t hear. At least he could still hear that smooth wonderful voice. Later the voice told him to push the green button to activate his transponder. He had no idea what a transponder was but he pushed the button anyway.
Twice more God’s voice left and then returned. Twice during the silence he had been about to let go, let the darkness take him. Each time the beautiful words brought him back. However, he had been here for a long time now and knew he was getting weaker and weaker. He had to hold on. The miraculous voice had told him that the transponder would give them his location and they would be coming for him.
So weak he could barely keep his eyes open, he had missed most of the last message from the voice. It was something about only a few more hours. He didn’t know how long ago that had been, could have been minutes, could have been hours.
Surprisingly, in the distance he could see something approaching that looked to be some sort of machine. Must be the messengers from God, it had to be, the voice had promised him that they were coming to save him. Forcing himself upward pushing his battered and broken body more than he thought was possible he moved to stand. Putting on his brightest smile, he raised his hand to welcome them. Suddenly darkness overwhelmed him. With hardly a sound he slowly toppled forward into the dust, a slight quiver, and he was still.
The two Space Marines stopped their armored land speeder by the crashed one-man space ship.
The first stepped forward and looked down at the broken body lying in the dust.
“See, I told you it was an alien ship. Look. He’s dead all right.”
“Well, Sir, what do we do now? Do you think he was able to get a message off? The ship looks pretty burned out. Hopefully the radio equipment was destroyed.”
“Radio equipment? Hell, son they don’t use radio equipment. Look there behind his ear. That’s a communication implant. That’s how they talk to each other. The signal lets the message go directly into the brain. Don’t need any radios.
Come on lets go, there’s nothing more to do here.”
Somewhere in the darkness of space a beautiful but saddened tear choked voice was speaking.
. . . ARGO-1 are you there, please come in. . .ARGO-1. . . ARGO-1 please. . .
End